


Let A Voice In

by ihaveacleverfandomurl



Series: All The Voices [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/M, M/M, Panic Attacks, basically lance thinking about keith a lot, lance/nyma is not a healthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveacleverfandomurl/pseuds/ihaveacleverfandomurl
Summary: If a cute male mullet owner were to admit to liking him, thinking he was attractive, thinking about dating him, maybe...well, maybe Lance might like him too.But that’s not possible. Cute mullet owners don’t exist. Mullets are inherently ugly, so thankfully Lance will never have this problem.But fuck Keith Kogane. He’s gone and done the impossible, and Lance feels like maybe he might just be very, very gay.For an ugly mullet.or, literally lance being gay as fuck (in the bi-est of ways)





	Let A Voice In

**Author's Note:**

> HENLO IT’S GAY TIME  
> for me that’s most of the time, for lance that’s some of the time but then all of the time when keith is concerned  
> this is a oneshot that you DEFINITELY need to read [the main story of this series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979442) for or very little will actually make sense, at least until chapter 12!  
> it also isn’t required in the main story series, another oneshot that is almost entirely very very self-indulgent but it shines some light on Lance’s inner monologue and hell if it isn’t fun to bi it up a little extra  
> tw: a manipulative relationship & resulting panic attacks

Listen. Lance isn’t gay.

He’s inhaled the scent of perfume and spun to watch many a girl walk by, hips swaying, and thought, _damn_. He likes the softness, the cute little things that accompany femininity, likes them in a very romantic way.

 _Listen._ He’s appreciated many a boob in his day.

He’s _not_ gay.

But if by chance, you know, a cute male mullet owner were to cuddle with him, press up close, hold his hand and look up at Lance like he’s the singular lifeline holding him in place, like he’s about to shatter into a million and one pieces and Lance is the glue that’s keeping him from scattering to the wind...

He’s going to start that over. That sounds very gay.

If a cute male mullet owner were to admit to liking him, thinking he was attractive, thinking about dating him, maybe...well, maybe Lance might like him too.

But that’s not possible. Cute mullet owners don’t exist. Mullets are inherently ugly, so thankfully Lance will never have this problem.

But fuck Keith Kogane. He’s gone and done the impossible, and Lance feels like maybe he might just be very, very gay.

For an ugly mullet. 

* * *

 

Lance can’t say when it started. It definitely wasn’t the second that horrid haircut first came into view, its owner screaming and swinging a baseball bat like Lance was the one about to kill _him_ , not the other way around. Nor was it during the period of Keith Kogane being remarkably unsympathetic to the fact that he had just broken Lance’s leg AND ribs.

And Lance had definitely spent a while being angry at Keith. For some justifiable reasons, and for plenty that weren’t really rational.

But somewhere in there, in a hospital waiting room, breathing through the pain and suddenly catching sight of Keith’s eyes glazing over, his breathing skyrocketing, hearing the first whimper and the mumbled “it’s so loud, so loud...” and murmurs of more with a strangled voice...Lance’s hands were clutched over Keith’s ears, and Keith had _looked at him_ , and Lance hadn’t known what to think. But then it had happened again, and again. When Keith’s eyes shutter and he starts to retreat inward, Lance knows now he can just reach out and brush Keith’s hand with his own, and his shoulders will slump in relief, his fists unclench, breath rushing out, and his eyes will fill with clarity, and almost without fail, he’ll look up at Lance immediately. Like the first thing he wants to see coming out of whatever the hell kind of attack he’s had is Lance’s face.

Keith doesn’t reach out to anyone else, as far as Lance has seen. He’s never hugged anyone, never asked for human contact from another person. Just Lance.

And Lance...Lance is a little gone.

It’s been an up and down journey to get to where they are now. Lance has been angry...a lot. And Keith has freaked out a lot. And maybe each time Lance wraps his hand around Keith’s, he feels himself fall a little more.

Keith...just makes him feel _needed_. By others, those talks they’ve had, Keith − the guy who’s been around for the equivalent of a minute to the span of their friend group − has seen more into Lance’s friendships than Lance himself has seen over the entirety of their existences. And he’s directed Lance back to his best friends.

But also – _Keith_ needs him. Or it feels like he does. And as much as Lance actually wants Keith not to suffer, to be able to be self-sufficient, as much as it just circles back to Lance being inherently selfish – he likes being needed. Wanted. He couldn’t tell you what other sphere of his life has people actively seeking him out for help.

He wants to have something to give, but he never has anything people want. He’s kind of useless.

But to Keith, for some reason – some reason that feels like it has to be a misunderstanding − Lance has something no one else does. Every time Lance is stupid and pushes him away, Keith comes back.

And waking up to him wrapped around Lance, face soft in sleep still, skin warm and stupid hair fanning across Lance’s pillow is...

Well, it’s a reason to open his eyes in the morning.

Who has Lance dated? He’s kissed a lot of girls. Or, a good couple. Even been called someone’s boyfriend a few times. But it’s all been shallow, for bragging rights and fun and that tinge of nervous excitement every time he delves into new territory. A blur of many people that blend into a whole lot of not much.

Not love. No, he’s never been in love.

And he’s not stupid enough to think that infatuation is love, he’s felt that a few times. Maybe infatuation is even...kind of something like what he’s feeling with Keith. Maybe. Just a stupid little thing like that.

But can he say, really, that he’s watched any of those girls at their worst, that they’ve seen him at his lowest, can any of them claim any of that? Has there ever been this...tug in his core before, toward somebody to just...hold? And protect?

When has somebody even cared enough to _act_ invested in him like Keith has?

* * *

Nyma was a not entirely unwelcome surprise. She’d come to work with red, watering eyes one day and cornered him in the back.

“I’m not dating my boyfriend anymore. So you should kiss me and make me forget about it.”

“Uhhh,” was Lance’s only intelligent response, but she kissed him, and he kissed her, and that was all it was. And then she started dating someone else, and their unspoken deal stopped, until she broke up with that boyfriend. And so the cycle continued, and Lance wasn’t sure he entirely liked it, but it was something kind of fun to do on breaks sometimes.

So what if maybe sometimes, he’d think he’d like something a little more steady, something that didn’t break off the second his partner caught sight of someone else she preferred? Not even with Nyma, he didn’t think he really cared that much, he just...

Would have liked to be more than a convenient backup.

And so what if, sometimes, on bad days, he’d go have a panic attack in the bathroom afterwards, and have to furiously scrub at his wet, red face and stare at himself in the mirror, feeling exhausted and empty?

Well...it was almost fun, most of the time. On good days, it could be fun.

Keith, though.

Keith seems to pull some weird flutter from his chest and swoop from his stomach, and when he smiles, it makes Lance feel warm.

He thinks maybe it would be fun kissing Keith. Like all of the time.

But what the hell does he do when he catches some sort of... _feelings_...for his angsty loner roommate that won’t tell him a thing about his past?

He can’t really begrudge Keith anything. He’s done so much for Lance. But... Lance has revealed so much. And Keith has told him absolutely _nothing_.

What if he’s a murderer? What if he’s an escaped convict? What if  −

Well, okay, that’s a little crazy. Next thing, he’ll start thinking Keith is like, magic or something.

But even if he’s got something that he’s done, Lance still finds his thoughts lingering on the topic of Keith. 

* * *

 

When Nyma pulls him outside after his confession to Hunk and Pidge, he’s riding high elation, and making out is a welcome bonus. It’s good, because last time, he’d almost hyperventilated to the point of passing out at the end, tearstained breaths only half-dragging through painful lungs. No, it’s a good time this time, so much so that Lance almost doesn’t feel his usual nagging doubts until Nyma’s sitting there smoking and the door is opening and he’s looking up into Keith’s eyes.

And it all comes rushing back, and now, he’s thinking why was he out here with Nyma, really? Because he’d rather have just...sat and excitedly talked to Keith behind the counter on his break, honestly.

Yeah, he’d say it. Fine. He’d rather just talk to Keith than make out with a hot girl. Questions unanswered, problems notwithstanding, stupid hair and all.

Goddammit, _fine_. He’s a little gay. He’s bisexual, and it’s all well and good.

But suddenly, Keith’s off, and cold, and lashes out, and Lance doesn’t know why, and he won’t let Lance touch him.

And that shouldn’t be a problem, and he knows how to give people space, but it feels like a very big problem, because he really...he really wants to hold Keith’s hand. To help him feel better. To take the tension out of his face. But also just to hold Keith’s hand.

And he’s distant that whole night, so Lance pulls out all the stops, because getting drunk might be the only way Keith will tell him anything about anything, but instead Lance gets drunk and Keith looks at him across the pillow with something wistful in his gaze, and maybe it’s the rum talking, but Lance wants to kiss him.

Instead, he passes out, and wakes up, and morning light is winding fingers through the window, falling across the room. Keith’s side of the bed is empty and cold.

When he hurries down the stairs, muzzy-headed and slightly nauseous, Keith isn’t there either. He isn’t anywhere. His coat is on Lance’s floor, his shoes are by the front door, but he knows, somehow, that these details don’t matter. He won’t find Keith anywhere in the house.

He’d entertained the thought, before, it had even been hinted at by Shiro when he’d first asked Lance to take Keith in that maybe it would happen. But he’d never thought it’d actually happen, or that he’d feel so utterly, completely, terrifyingly lost.

Keith is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I fully expect people to have looked into invisible cameras like they’re on The Office when I dropped that magic line and that’s ok i know i’m terrible!!  
> Also, of course, please check out the other stories in this series! Esp [the main one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979442) if you haven't yet!  
> [my creative tumblr](http://kayizcray.tumblr.com) | [my personal tumblr](http://ihaveacleverfandomurl.tumblr.com/)


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